The Long Road
by Marcus Gaudry
Summary: Part of the '7 Pillars' Series. All Fenris wants is to get out of LA. However, because of her duties and the fact she has an outstanding boon to Prince Therese, it's proving to be long road... Note: is based on continuity established in VTMB 10 years Later.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

"So tell me what you have learned about our Sheriff and her 'Task Force'." Prince Therese Vooreman demanded.

Fenris Fraust found herself once again in the suite her highness shared with her twin sister; the dichotomy of their respective derangements clearly evident in that the suite was quite literally segregated in half. One side was sparkling clean to the point of showing some obsessive-compulsive behavior; the other side was total bedlam. The OCD side had a window; the bedlam side had a closed door which Fenris presumed was a bathroom. The scene reminded her of those old situation comedies she used to watch when she was a little girl; the ones where siblings were compelled to share a room and drew a line down the middle of it to determine whose side was whose. If it wasn't so creepy in real life, it would have made her laugh.

"Most of their focus has been on the developments going on at LaCroix's old building." She replied. "So far I've seen nothing to suggest they are staging any kind of coup." Very early on, Fenris learned it was best to make every effort to speak to the Prince as formally as possible. The Prince set her onto the task of monitoring Damsel immediately after she seized Praxis. So far, she was telling the truth; nobody was actively staging anything like a coup against her. What Fenris wasn't saying, however, was how the whole Court was doing all they could to keep her from doing anything unilaterally.

"I see." Therese said. "And have they found anything new?"

"So far as anyone knows, highness, it has been renovated into some sort of Federal Government building." Fenris answered. "I can't say for certain yet, but rumor has it that it is intended to be used for a new division of the FBI or something like that. It has been all kept very secret. Not even the Nosferatu have been able to find out much to my knowledge."

"That's all old news, and not good enough." Therese frowned. "I am well aware of the speculation that this new division are training to hunt our kind. I asked if they found anything new. If I am going to do my duty by this city and to the Camarilla to keep this Domain safe, I need certainty, not speculation. I need facts, not rumors. I need evidence, not innuendo. I can't authorize any sort of strike until I know whom we are striking against. Do you understand what could happen if we hit them and they turned out to be nothing more than simple government officials, or worse, high ranking ones? Even worse still, what if it turned out to be a branch dedicated to social services intended to help the less fortunate? Do you understand how catastrophic that could be for us? DO YOU?"

"I understand completely highness." Fenris bowed. Ever since the party at the Garden, Therese had been having more and more of these tirade episodes; fortunately they have been kept down to a dull roar until she was in her private quarters. It struck Fenris odd that Kaila's party would be so upsetting to Therese; she wasn't even there. That night, Therese had sent Jeanette to meet with her and assist in an attempt to ferret out likely traitors and enemies.

"Good" the Prince nodded. "Then go and find me the evidence, facts, and certainty. If these agents are indeed hunters, maybe we can put a stop to them before there's too much bloodshed."

Fenris bowed again, not saying a word. She stood still until Prince Therese dismissed her; she made the mistake of trying to leave her presence without permission...once...and determined that she not make that mistake again.

"WHY ARE YOU STILL STANDING HERE?" Therese shouted at her.

As much as she wanted to pop claws and rip her throat out where she stood, Fenris turned and left the suite without a word of objection.

 _I have to find a way to get out of this city..._


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Fenris stepped out of the elevator that led back into the Asylum Nightclub in Santa Monica. After her little meeting with Therese, she had an overwhelming need to get the hell out of there. Just the same, she took a moment to scan the Club. It was unlikely that any threats would exist here; the Asylum was named one of the sites for Elysium by Keeper VV, after all, but there was no point in taking anything for granted. Besides, she might get lucky, remove an immediate threat against her Majesty, and subsequently be released from that stupid boon.

No such luck tonight. One thing she had to admit, though; ever since VV took on the role of Keeper of Elysium, the sites marked as Elysium had gotten noticeably cleaner. This place was especially noticeable. There was still a faint stench of lingering madness, but Fenris expected that there was nothing to be done about that, given the place was owned by a couple of Malks. The other smells that once seemed almost part of the Club were virtually unnoticeable now, and that helped. What made things even better was the choices VV made to clean up with; not anything perfumed, which only masked odors, but product that actually neutralized odors. The closest thing to perfume her other than whatever the guests were wearing was that peppermint smell that lingered around the Vooreman sisters. Speaking of which, Fenris couldn't see Jeanette anywhere in the Club. Not that that meant much; it was crowded, and she could be obfuscated for some reason.

Satisfied there were no immediate risks to Therese here tonight, Fenris made haste to get out of the Club and into the night air of Santa Monica. She barely got the alley beside the club, the one that would lead to Vandal's Blood Bank if you went in the right direction when she caught the unmistakable and welcome scent of a campfire.

"I kind of figured you'd be here." Just Mike said as he stepped out of the shadows.

 _For crying out loud; that sounds like yet another assignment coming up! How the hell did I become everyone's go-to girl?_

Since Therese became Prince, it seemed to her that whenever something needed doing, she got called in. Not only was she responsible for her highness's personal security, Therese had her monitoring Damsel, and scouting the old LaCroix building. On top of that, Cammie pulled her aside at Kaila's party. He had something for her, too. It was presented to her in the form of a deal; he wanted her help to find a specific article, and in exchanged he offered to buy the boon she owed the Prince, and then declare that boon paid in full. In short, if she could find his missing heart, he would set her free. That sounded like a sweet deal, and she didn't doubt that Cameron would honor it; he might be a scumbag, but he wasn't the type to break a deal. The problem was there was no guarantee that Therese would sell the boon. Cammie might think he has that sale arranged, but the Prince was highly unstable; and she was getting worse steadily. Now it was starting to look like the Gangrel Primogen was calling on her for something else. She wanted to tell Mike to give it to someone else, but this was a Clan thing.

"Hey, Mike" she did her best to smile. "To what do I owe this dubious pleasure?" She could just hope her sarcasm came off as playful flippancy.

"I know you've got a lot on your plate already, Fenris." He said, ignoring her tone completely. "If it made sense to hand this to anyone else I would, but you've got the mouth closest to Therese's ear. The Clan has picked up the scent of what might be an unacknowledged lick moving into town."

Fenris sighed, exasperated. "Does the Sheriff know about this?" She asked.

"Not yet" Mike replied. "I wanna make sure we're right first. She's got enough going on with the feds right now."

"Fine; tell me what you've got."

"On the far end of the beach," Mike answered, "on the edge of town, we have a Carnival setting up. Some of the Carnies smell like ghouls. It might just be bad hygiene, or it could be the owner of the Carnival in Kindred."

"I'll check it out, and if it is a lick, I'll bring him in." Fenris agreed; this was an easy enough job.

"I knew I could count on you." Mike said; it was the closest the Primogen ever got to saying thanks. "The Gangrels will be close by if you need us."

Just Mike turned down the alley and walked off. Fenris thought about catching a cab to get downtown, and then decided that she could trust Damsel to be on the level. Therese and her paranoia could wait for now; this might be something real. She headed for the beach access route in the public parking garage instead.


	3. Chapter 3

It looked like Mike was right about the carnival setting up at what was now known as Bach Point on the beach; it was being set up by ghouls, and none of them were of a familiar scent to Fenris. He was also right about their apparent lack of hygiene. Whoever they were, they weren't known in Los Angeles, and that meant their master probably wasn't either. The problem was she couldn't pick up on any Kindred at the Point; all she could guess about that was that maybe their master hadn't arrived yet. The Carnival itself was pretty typical fare; rides that looked in worse shape than they probably were, a couple of geek shows, a boardwalk of games of skill – most likely all rigged to ensure the carnies could determine who wins what if anything at all – and a couple of concession stands containing overpriced junk food. Fenris had a hunch these guys were not likely to be much of a problem for the Kindred and quite possibly made a habit of passing through most cities and towns either undetected or ignored by locals for the most part. That didn't change one simple fact; this time they were detected, and as little as Fenris might like it, that meant they could not be ignored. Now it was just a matter of waiting for the actual Lick to show up. This could make for a long night of doing nothing. At least she was about as far from the city as she could get at the moment. Off in the distance, she could hear emergency vehicles blaring their sirens; first Fire, then Ambulance, and finally Police. From the sound, she guessed it was something pretty big. That kind of cacophony was typical of any city. She was just relieved that for once she wasn't the one being called on to deal with it. Fenris prepared to shift into her wolf form in order to help avoid detection as she watched the carnies set up. Just some wild animal watching with bored interest as some humans put up what might be an opportunity to score some garbage food...

 _Buzz...buzz...buzz..._ her cell phone went off. _Damn it! I spoke too soon!_ Growling in frustration Fenris checked the display. It was Damsel. Reluctantly, Fenris hit answer on the touch screen.

"This is Fenris." She greeted, as politely as she could manage.

"Where the hell are you?"

"I'm at Bach Point, doing my job."

"I'm surprised that her highness actually put you something other than 'coordinating' with me." Damsel laughed. Fenris chuckled lightly at that; Damsel knew damn well that Therese had her spying on the Sheriffs' operations. Fenris and Damsel had actually become friends after that Assamite mess a few months back, and kind of enjoyed a smart mouth rapport since then. The key thing to their friendship was that underneath the slings and arrows they tossed at each other, they were up front with each other; there was no bullshit between them. Damsel knew that Fenris was spying, and Fenris knew that Damsel had already made her move by passing information on to X about a way to possibly get out from under Therese Vooreman. They had agreed that that was as much as Fenris should know, in case Therese decided she couldn't trust Fenris either and went all Auspex or Dominate on her.

"What's up, Damsel?" she asked.

"We have a nightclub that just got shot up and firebombed." Damsel replied. "It's Tyler's place, Fenris, and he ain't answering his phone."

 _What do you want me to do about it?_ Fenris wanted to say. _It's not my problem right now. You deal with it._ But that wasn't the way friendships worked. It was no secret how close Damsel and Tye were; and as tough a front Damsel put up, she was really a softie when it came to those she cared about, especially her own Clan. There was a reason she was often referred to as the 'Den Mother' of the Los Angeles Brujah. Fenris remembered how she nearly fell apart over Nines being destroyed once all the Setite crap was cleared up. The thought of maybe losing Tyler too must be tearing her apart. She took another look at carnival, and determined that nothing significant was about to change. She sighed.

"What do you need me to do?" she asked, as if she didn't know.

"Can you get over here and nose around to see if you can figure out who did this? I'm going to check out our place to see if Tye is there."

"I'm on my way." _DAMN IT!_ Fenris thought as she hit end on the touch screen. Taking a second to calm herself down a little, she reminded herself that even when Damsel was losing her shit over Nines, she was supportive when it came to Fenris losing Skelter and missing out on a chance to take off with Beckett. She reminded herself that Fenris lost Skelter, too, and she had no idea how much more Damsel had been through even before she was embraced. Once composed, Fenris turned into a bat instead of a wolf and flew towards Confessions, Downtown.

From above, the scene was a circus. Emergency vehicles had their lights flashing as firefighters worked to put out the blazing remains of the converted church, police pulled double duty by questioning witness and keeping spectators a safe distance away, and at least three ambulances dealt with those who were injured. By the time she got there, Fenris was able to observe the media showing up and begin to scramble for the best angles and grab the big scoop on this event. She could make out no sign of either Damsel or Tyler.

She swooped down into a nearby alley and changed back into her original form. Next she crept towards the scene and got as close to a couple of cops as she could without drawing attention to herself. Using her heightened senses, that was easy enough to accomplish; she could even hear their conversation:

"So what do you think this was some street gang thing?"

"It's hard to say. I do know at least one witness says the guys who did it were all wearing expensive suits."

"I heard the owner got shot between the eyes at point blank range, and then they shot the place up with M-16's before torching the place."

"Someone was royally pissed off at this dump."

Fenris could hardly believe what she was hearing; Tyler was the owner. Were they saying he was dead?

"Another witness who was outside said he saw a black Hummer race away just after the place went up."

"Did he get a plate number?"

"No, it happened too fast."

"That figures. Hey did you see that black guy fleeing the scene about a minute ago? He looked to me like one of those Hardcore Hip-Hop Gangsta types to me."

"I missed that. Did you call it in?"

"What do you think I am, an idiot? Of course I did!"

"Okay, okay; just asking..."

Fenris felt a mix of relief and disdain. Relief that Tyler was apparently alive; it must have been that Venus chick that was shot, and disdain that Tyler was spotted by the cops; that meant they were on to him, and that could prove problematic for the Masquerade. _This is why I keep on getting called on. This is why I'm everyone's go-to girl. This why I have to get out of the fucking cities!_

Suppressing a growl, Fenris slinked back into the alleys. Damsel said she was going to the Hollowbrook to try and locate Tyler; it was possible that Tyler did the same to locate Damsel. She reverted back into bat form and took the skies once again.

It was a short trip; when she was above the Hollowbrook, she could see a sniper on the roof take as shot which knocked Tyler onto his back in the alley behind. It looked as if Tyler was nursing his right arm. As the Brujah sat up, the sniper was taking aim again. Fenris made a rapid descent to buzz the sniper; screeching and flapping violently. To the sniper, it would appear as if a very large bat harassing him for trespassing on her territory. This was enough to keep him from taking the shot in order to attempt to swat the meddlesome bat away; in the process of his efforts, the sniper lost his footing and fell over ledge and into the heavily littered alley way. Fenris fluttered to the ground and changed back to her original form to assess the scenario.

First she checked the sniper. He was alive, but his lights were out and he likely suffered several bone fractures and probably a break or two. Next she checked Tyler. He suffered two gunshot wounds; one in the chest and one at his right elbow. He was already starting to heal the chest wound. The elbow was nearly disintegrated, so that would take awhile longer to fully heal. At least he wasn't losing any more blood. Nearby, there was another goon; his neck broken, he was clearly dead.

"Damn it, Tyler," she said. "This is one hell of a mess you made here."

"How'd you know to come here?"

"Damsel called; looking for you." Fenris explained. "What happened? Did you forget your phone or something?"

"Do you know where she is now?" Tyler asked, gaining his feet.

"She was supposed to be here. You tell me where she is."

"She was gone when I got here." Tyler replied. "The place upstairs is trashed. They must have got the drop on her."

Fenris rubbed her temples with her fingertips; this was exactly the kind of headache she didn't need right now. She was starting to think the whole city would probably go up like Confession if she wasn't here. Not only was the club now a smouldering heap, but the owner was shot dead, Tyler was spotted by a cop who's probably a racist and now suspects the Brujah had something to do with what happened, there was dead goon in the alley behind a possible burglary as well as an injured sniper – a scene which both she and Tyler were currently at- and now the Sheriff was possibly abducted. _I fucking hate cities..._

"Who are 'they'?" Fenris asked, almost afraid to hear the answer.

"I think they're Russian Mob." Tyler answered. "I took out one of their bosses ten years ago for Venus. That's how I came to be a silent owner of the club."

 _So this is about revenge from the Russian Mafia. This situation just keeps better and better._

"For what it's worth, if the cops don't end up hunting you down for murder, what's left of the club is probably yours. Word is that Venus was shot point blank in the head before your Russian buddies shot up and torched the place. Now come on; we gotta get you out of sight. You were spotted and deemed suspicious. We also have to get rid of the body and find a way to get this guy somewhere we can question him."


	4. Chapter 4

Gaining access to the crematorium was easy enough; VV was quite willing to ensure that Romero would be cooperative. Once he and Fenris got to the graveyard, Romero seemed happy to be of assistance; apparently the last four months had been quite dull since the zombie issue was resolved.

"It's really weird," Romero commented. "About four months ago they just stopped rising; it happened all at once, too. We've been checking it out of course, but so far there are no clear explanations."

Fenris perked up; sniffing the air as she looked around the crematorium. "Someone's here." She said, inhaling deeply. "It's Ajax and...And someone else that I haven't met yet."

This was just fucking perfect. Fenris had no doubt that this was probably Cameron being Seneschal and sending his little Nosferatu bitch out to fetch her for yet another errand. No sooner does she get one thing started, all of the sudden someone else needs her something else. Not only that, she's expected to finish whatever it was she started.

"What do you want, Ajax?" she called out, agitated.

Ajax and another Nossie appeared in front of them in the Crematorium. If Ajax was ugly, this new guy was fucking hideous.

"No need to take your frustrations out on me, Gangrel," Ajax placated. "The Prince sent me to speak to you."

"Of course she did." Fenris murmured. "What does she want _now_?"

"She wants us to help you, to be honest." Ajax replied. "Look, gorgeous, you know I like you and all, and if it wasn't for Imalia I'd probably let you have your way with me, but seriously, you have to grow up a little bit."

"I beg your pardon?"

"You want out of the city scene. I get it; hell I don't blame you. But what you gotta understand is that not everything is about you and not everything that is about you is against you."

As the Nos and the Gangrel carried on, Tyler resumed the cremation process. Fenris could tell he was keeping an ear open to keep up, but there was no point in standing by when this mess needed taking care of. He would have caught the new guys' name; Adam Walker. He was being assigned to help Fenris and probably Damsel, too. Did they know Damsel was MIA? Yep, but Therese didn't –yet.

 _Well, that's something._

"What about you, Ajax?" Tyler asked, turning around as the body began to burn. The flame was well contained, but he still didn't much like the sight of it. "What's your role in this?"

"I'm Adam's tour guide."

"That's fine." Fenris said. "Then you two get to join the beach party tomorrow night."

Walker asked what she meant by Beach Party. Tyler said he was curious himself, actually.

"Mike and some of the Gangrel reported a Carnival being set up at Bach Point." Fenris explained, apparently started to chill out a little. "It looked like it might be an unacknowledged; I've checking it out and there's definitely ghouls down there."

"They're probably scrambling to set up shop before the Master shows up." Tyler snorted.

"That's my best guess." Fenris agreed. "Meet me there tomorrow night." She said to Ajax. She turned to Walker. "It looks like you're going to get your feet wet in LA pretty quick, Walker."

Walker glowered. "It looks that way." He said. His voice was so deep it was underground even if he wasn't.

That was all last night. Now she was back at Bach Point, watching the Carnies set up. She hadn't changed form yet, because her so-called help hadn't arrived yet. Either that or they managed to obfuscate themselves and escape her notice; maybe taking care to stay downwind of her. She certainly couldn't smell Mr. I-bathe-in-chlorine-bleach Ajax, and the new guy, who had this weird no-smell smell somehow, could not be detected just now.

Not that Fenris particularly cared or minded; she'd rather work alone whenever possible if she were to be honest. Fewer things could go wrong that way. To be fair, Ajax was less of a fuck up than the rest of 'super seven'; he and Marko seemed to require a lot less babysitting than the others. Then of course there was Cammie and Tabetha. Tabetha was acting weird lately; like her position in the Court was getting to her head, but overall she was okay if you could get her nose out of her books; but Cammie was just a straight up jerk most of the time. Yeah, he promised to help get Therese to call off the boon if she could find his heart, but like that was going to happen. Even if she did, there was no way Therese would let her go for that.

At the Carney, a new trailer pulled up. All the work stopped as it did. A couple of people shuffled their feet in nervous anticipation. From her perspective, the place looked nearly ready. If her hunch was right and this was the boss, she would think he or she would be pleased. Then again, if the boss is a Kindred, especially a Camarilla Kindred, nothing is ever good enough. Fenris sniffed the air; she caught the no-smell first, then she caught the bleach stink she knew so well.

"About time you two showed up." She said.

"It's good to see you, too, beautiful." Ajax retorted. "What have we got here?"

Fenris pointed down towards the Carnies. "That trailer they're all gathering around is the newest feature. The way everyone dropped what they were doing when it rolled in, I'm willing to bet dollars to donuts that's the boss."

"Still think they're Kindred?" Ajax asked.

"I think the boss probably is." Fenris confirmed. "About half of the workers are ghouls, and the rest are probably donors or something like that."

"She's right." The new guy agreed.

"How would you know?" Ajax challenged.

The new guy turned his blank, empty eye sockets onto Ajax. "I can tell." He said plainly. "By the way the workers are standing; I'd guess the woman in red is in charge when the Master isn't around."

Fenris was impressed. She had been the one directing traffic. This guy was good at this; he was right. Fenris didn't have to ask how he figured that; the woman in red was just about the only one not showing any sign of worry at all. For the workers, that was probably a good sign. Once the trailer was settled, the door opened and a man stepped out, holding a rolled up rug under one arm. He looked young to the eye, but even from here she was sure they could all tell he was not. He looked like some kind of gypsy. He rolled out the rug, carefully smoothed out any bulges or wrinkles, and then took a small gag off his belt. From that bag he produced a bunch of tiny pebbles or something which he sprinkled neatly on side of the rug, creating a sort of pathway.

"What's with the pebbles?" Ajax asked. Fenris shrugged.

"That's not pebbles that he put down." The new guy said. "My bet is that he threw down broken glass." He leaned into Fenris slightly. "I'm willing to see your bet and double down that you know what that means."

Instinctively Fenris bristled. This was bad; or at least had an excellent chance of going bad. She did know. Finally the Master came out of the trailer; an older looking fellow, also done up to the full like a lifelong, born and bred gypsy of the Eastern European Variety. He was a little on the heavy side, but clearly carried the weight well.

"A fucking Ravnos!" she hissed. This was the first one she ever saw, but the enmity she felt was in her blood. It was all she could do to not change form and run roughshod over the whole camp. Gritting her teeth and taking a moment to calm herself down before doing anything stupid, she turned to Ajax.

"Send word out through your Clan and to mine what we found here. I recommend you use whatever animal links you have. Meanwhile, you two are going to stay here and keep watch."

"What are you going to do?" Ajax asked.

"I'm going in for a closer look." She replied, changing into wolf form before either one of the Nosferatu could argue.

"Let her go," she could hear the new guy say as she moved away. "She wants to see if this guy actually does make an effort to present to the Prince first. The Ravnos Clan are very temperamental and vengeful if they feel even the slightest bit wronged for any reason."

As she moved in, she had time to reflect; she was being a little unfair to Ajax. True, he was Cameron's bitch, but then she was Therese's bitch, so who was she to judge? Sometimes, like on nights like this one, it often seemed like the only lick in town that was doing things right was Marko.

 _Now_ that _is a disturbing thought..._

After a quick perusal as just some wild animal on the beach maybe looking for some scraps of food, Fenris trotted away from the camp. There was no doubt that the boss was indeed a vampire; and of all things a damned _Ravnos!_ He seemed happy enough with the progress so far, but urged that the workers must be done before sunrise. He spoke with a heavy accent; Fenris wasn't sure if it was Bosnian or Serbian. His voice was jovial and his speech ingratiating, but there was a thin layer of menace under that ingratiating joviality; like a veiled but well placed threat wrapped in polite hostility. She could tell this was not the kind of guy you wanted to rush up against. It would be better to wait and watch for one more night. She was sure she was right to give 'Alexis' one night to find and present himself to Therese before making a move. Then she would be justified in going for the throat if she needed to.


	5. Chapter 5

As far as Fenris Fraust was concerned, fair is fair; she gave that Ravnos prick one whole night to announce himself and seek the acknowledgement of the Prince of this Domain, and apparently Alexis thought himself above such things. As little as Fenris liked Therese, she was the Prince and LA was her Domain, so her word was the law; besides, there was stupid boon to think about. Even if this jack off wasn't a Ravnos, she'd have to bring him in.

Last night, she had Ajax and his new buddy stake the place out while she cased it up close. So far, the new Nossie seemed alright; he definitely appeared to know what the hell he was doing and what he was talking about. That was a nice change around here. She could even get used to that weird no-smell he had going on. By the time it got time to retreat before the sun came up, it was apparent that Alexis didn't know nor seemed to care if there was a Prince of Los Angeles. The Carnival was all set up and ready to go, and Alexis had returned to his trailer. Fenris, Ajax and Walker had no choice by then but to seek shelter from the sun as well.

By the time the sun had set to begin the following night, word of the Ravnos Carnival was well spread throughout the Gangrel Clan. Most said they heard it from either a rat or a racoon sent by Ajax. The mood amongst the Clan was best described as edgy. If there was a positive note, it was that plenty of Gangrel were more than willing to came along and drag this Alexis bastard in; crying and bleeding if necessary. For once, she wasn't in this kind of shit alone. Even Ajax and Walker came back. Though Fenris had no reason to doubt the Nos knew all about the Ravnos in town, she didn't see any others besides those two. For most, that wouldn't mean much; the Nosferatu are very good at not being seen until it's far too late. She also supposed that by now Therese knew, though that was no guarantee. Sometimes she was hard to find. If that was the case, then Cameron would likely know. Come to think of it, the Ventrue likely knew regardless; not only was he Seneschal, but for some reason the Nosferatu Clan in general seemed to like the guy.

Not that any of that much mattered. Soon enough, the whole town would be very much aware of Alexis the Ravnos. She knew the layout of the place quite intimately, and both Ajax and Walker had the place well cased; they knew who was who and what was what. With a few of the other Gangrels around, cornering this dipshit and bringing him to the Prince (or even the Seneschal; that might even be better) should be a piece of cake.

The night was still young; the carnival was very much alive and clearly making a tidy profit on it's opening in the City of Angels. As Fenris watched in wolf form at a safe distance to avoid detection, Ajax and Adam wandered around the perimeter of the grounds; obfuscated, of course. The odd rat could be seen scurrying about in their furtive rat-like way; probably filtering information to either Ajax or some Nos she didn't know was around. Most satisfying of all, a rather thick cloud of mist began to gather along the shoreline. As tricky as the Deceivers might be, there was no way they were getting out of this. As dark as the thought was, Fenris kind of hoped that Therese would be in one of more hostile moods tonight, or at least that Cameron would feel like being an _especially_ monster-sized dick tonight.

As the night grew a little older, the Carnival began to slowly wind down. The Kine were starting to thin out and make their way home; their bellies and heads full of junk and lies, and their wallets empty. Ironically, most if not all were smiling about it; they were fully convinced they got their money's worth for a night of third-rate amusement. As the guests began to thin, the crew started to come out to begin cleaning the lace up a little bit. It was almost time for the real show to begin. Fenris trotted around the park to get as close to Alexis' trailer as she dared; now would be no time to get spotted. She could see the mist along the shore begin to crawl its way inland. Fenris also noted the rodent population in the immediate area had grown exponentially.

The trailer door opened. The young looking ghoul poked his head out and looked around. After a quick but careful scan of the surroundings, he nodded: apparently he was satisfied the coast was clear. He retreated his head back inside, leaving the door open. Alexis stepped out and hesitated just outside the door as if to take in the night air. He glanced around casually and proceeded farther outside as the mist drew ever closer to the Carnival proper, waiting for the last of his marks to leave. That was absolutely fine with Fenris; she could wait for the park to be abandoned. That just meant less risk to the Masquerade. Even as the rats started to close in on both him and the park, Alexis stood unchangingly still. As little as liked to admit, that was mildly impressive; most people have an instinctive tendency to shrink away from rats. Alexis seemed not to mind them or even really to notice them.

Finally the last of the guests were gone home or wherever they meant to go after their fun here. It was time to make a move. Still in wolf form, Fenris sprinted across the sand, headed straight for the Ravnos who had yet to move a muscle. Growling and snarling Fenris leaped at him...

...and passed right through him as if he wasn't even there.

In her descent, she reverted back to her original form and half-turned while hunkered down to investigate what just happened. The spot where Alexis was standing was now completely empty; not even a set of footprints to mark the spot in the sand.

A burly sounding grunt came from behind her. She turned to face the source of it to see a muscle-bound bald man in a leopard skin tunic – _how cliché can you get?_ \- was charging at her with a sledgehammer swinging in an overhead arc. As the strongman started to bring the hammer down, Fenris spun around, using a leg to sweep his feet out from under him. To his credit, the strongman with the handlebar mustache did not lose his grip on the hammer as he toppled backwards onto the sand. Popping her claws and bearing her fangs, Fenris pounced upon him, impeded only by the handle of the hammer; which the strongman was now using as a cross piece that Fenris instinctively clutched. She let go of the handle with one hand to swipe at his eyes.

KA- _BLAM! Whizzz...!_

Fenris could actually feel the bullet singe her hair as it flew overhead. She looked over her shoulder to see the young looking ghoul standing at the door of the trailer, the barrel of what had to be the oldest looking rifle she had ever seen still smoking. He had a shocked look on his face, as if surprised his shot missed. That look of surprise changed first to shock, and then into fear, and finally panic as the advancing mist rapidly moved in on him, enveloping him before he could get the trailer door closed. This was all the distraction that the strongman needed to be able to shove her off of him and force her roughly onto her back in the sand as he rose to his feet, raising the hammer again for an overhead swing.

Though she would never admit it, Fenris felt a moment of desperation as she lifted her left leg and thrust it forward in a front kick as hard as she could manage, planting the heel of her sneakered foot squarely in the strongman's junk. The strongman let out a woofing squeal as he dropped the hammer harmlessly onto the beach to clasp both hands over his nuts and collapsed to the ground, curling up like a snail. She heard a yelp from inside the trailer as she regained her feet and wound up her right clawed hand to take a swipe at the now whimpering strongman. Around her, it sounded like her fellow Gangrels were making fairly easy work of Alexis' crew. She had no idea what the Nosferatu were doing. As she let her hand begin its strike – having no intention of causing any more serious harm than to leave him with a scar to remind him how he, the strongman, was schooled by a small girl, she suddenly felt a sharp pain in her hand.

Yelping, she looked and saw a dart piecing straight through her entire hand; the point sticking out the back, the feathered end jutting from her palm.

"This will stop right now!" someone shouted to her left. Fenris whirled around to see the woman in red standing in almost the exact spot she thought she saw Alexis, armed with a set of four more darts that matched the one currently stuck through her right hand. Red quickly tossed another dart and before Fenris could react a second dart was stuck firmly in her leg; just above the knee. She yelped again, but managed to stay standing. "You will call off your friends, Gangrel animal," Red warned her eastern European accent thick as day old oatmeal. She made ready with a third dart. "Or this one will find its way between your eyes."

"You might want to rethink that, Ravnos ghoul bitch." Fenris counter warned. "I'm here under the authority of the Prince of Los Angeles..."

"You lie." Red said humorlessly. "Los Angeles is an Anarch State with no clear Baron in the Downtown area. That is why..." she stopped her speech to regard the swarm of rodents gathering around her. "Tell your pets to stand down. I know you lie about your authority."

In a blink of an eye, one gnarled, skeletal arm wrapped around Red's neck and another gripped her throwing arm and twisted it behind her. Red screeched in what could only be described as terror when the nearly skinless face of Imalia leered over her shoulder from behind.

"Those aren't her pets and she isn't lying, you out-of-date Carnie skank!" Imalia hissed in her ear. "By the way, the 1920's called and they want their dress back!"

"Sascha" Red shouted at the top of her lungs, her lungs sounding shredded from the effort.

The young ghoul fell out through the trailer door, out cold for the count. Just Mike followed, wiping his chin with the back of his hand.

"Do you mean this guy?" Mike asked. "Apparently he thought it best to take a little nap, sister."

"Drop the darts." Imalia demanded. Red reluctantly complied. Her eyes flamed with vengeance.

The strongman was still curled up, nursing his 'nads and whimpering like a baby. Fenris limped around him so that they were back to back. Then, after removing the dart in her leg, she reeled it back and landed a mule kick to the back of his head; knocking him out.

"Shut the fuck up." She ordered him as an afterthought. Pulling the dart out of hand, she turned her attention to Red. "On behalf of Prince Therese Vooreman of the Domain of Los Angeles, I place you and your crew under arrest for failure to make your presence known to her. As you are all but ghouls, by the authority of the Prince I demand you disclose the location of your Master under penalty of Final Death if you refuse."

"She isn't kidding, sister," Mike said as Imalia tightened her grip. "Our girl here has a way of bending her Highness's ear when she wants to."

Red laughed; it was a desperate, weakly defiant laugh. "He is gone from here." She replied, spitting. "You will never find him, and he will avenge this trespass very soon."

"Well, sweet cheeks," Ajax called from about halfway between the park proper and where they were standing, "he ain't gone too far, it seems."

Ajax and Walker were fast approaching, practically dragging a resoundingly beat up Alexis between the two of them. Fenris noted that Walker's topcoat looked torn, but otherwise the Nosferatu pair looked unscathed. Though she was disappointed that she didn't get shot in on this piece of Ravnos trash, she did a grim satisfaction at the sight before her. More and more she getting to like this new guy; Adam Walker was his name.


	6. Chapter 6

Initially, Fenris found Cameron's handling of that Ravnos scumbag mildly disappointing. Yeah, it was great watching him squirm, but then he got let go. Not just that, but he gets a second chance? What the hell is that all about? She got the impression that Cameron was rushing through the Ravnos hearing- probably so he get back to mooning over his stripper Toreawhore- but then why not just order his head removed and be done with it?

On the way back to Bach Point, she clued in. It wasn't so much that Alexis was getting a second chance; it was more like he was getting a prolonged execution. Now he had to walk on eggshells as long he was in the city, or else any punishment the Seneschal could order would seem like mercy killing next to whatever Prince Therese might think up. By the end of the week, Alexis Dragisha might wish Cameron Hastings _did_ lift his head off his shoulders right then and there.

 _Well played, Cammie; well played._

No sooner than Alexis Dragisha was returned to his Caravan, which looked like they were getting ready to pack up, did Fenris feel the buzz of her phone once again.

 _Big surprise_ she thought sarcastically. She checked the display and saw it came up as an unknown number. This was just getting better and better every night; now she was getting strangers calling her. She hit the END button to disconnect the call. Hopefully whoever it was would get the hint to leave her alone; she was way too busy with enough Camarilla city bullshit as it was.

She resumed her watch of the activities of the Carnies. Alexis was urging his little entourage to get everything ready for opening the next day. Mike was standing right next to her.

"I gotta give this much to this guy." Mike snickered. "He's got a set of brass balls. He just finished talking like he negotiated their right to stay on the beach for a week, and the right to apply for a second week with the Prince herself."

Fenris glanced at Mike. She had almost forgotten just how sharp his hearing was. Sound for him was like scent to her. She could just imagine what city life was like for him; especially if he needed to go into places like Asylum or the Pit. It amazed her that he was able to manage at all; the cacophony of everything. Maybe that was why being Primogen worked for him; those council meeting rooms were probably a silent haven for him.

Her phone buzzed again. She checked the display; it was that same number, but this time it indicated a text message. Growling quietly, she checked the message:

"It's Tyler. This is my new phone. Verification is Tye-D. I'm at Grout's old place. Could use back up; possible lead to helping Damsel. There might be good eating in it."

Fenris sighed audibly.

Mike glanced at her. "What's up, girl?" He asked. As little as she liked the city and all the politics that came with it, Mike was one of the good ones around here. Sure he had to be a bit of a bastard once in awhile, but at the end of the night he was always good about looking out for his Clan.

"It's Tyler." She replied. "He thinks he has a lead to help Damsel up at Grout's old place and he's looking for back up." She didn't have to explain why he Tyler was calling on her instead of his own Clan; Mike already knew. There were two reasons: the first one had to do with the friendship she and damsel had developed. The second had to do with that whole 'super seven' thing. They were all embraced around the same time, and Lacroix had all of their sires butchered together. That had created a weird ass bond amongst them; some kind of crisis attachment or something. Tabetha would most likely have some fancy schoolbook term for it, and maybe Marko or Ajax. Fenris did not. She just knew it always seemed to work out the seven of them somehow ended up working together on some level or another.

Mike nodded. "If you want to go, then go." He said. He pointed down at the activity in the Carnival below. "I got this."

Fenris muttered her thanks and changed shape to a bat in order to get to Grout's old place as quickly as possible.

Presuming that Tyler probably lacked the foresight to case the premises before trying to move in, Fenris did a fly over to get an idea of what kind of security they would be dealing with. It would be a cursory check at best, but even that was better than nothing.

The new house on the grounds was large, but its design was much simpler and more practical than the former Malkavian Primogen's home and office was. The twelve foot retaining wall was equipped with cameras- most likely closed circuit- and motion detectors. Behind the wall was a narrow corridor blocked off by and eight foot chain-link fence topped with razor wire. The corridor served as a dog run; and the dogs- a trio of Siberian Huskies – were in the run. All entrances to the house itself had a sentry. There were also at least two roaming patrols that she spotted. As for the Brujah Primogen, he was hiding just beyond the line of sight of the cameras; using the tree line beyond the wall for cover.

She just couldn't resist; still in bat form, Fenris dived in on him from above, pulling up at the last possible instant to avoid crashing into him, forcing him to hot the dirt. Even as he rolled aside and regained his feet, she glided deeper into the trees where she changed back into her original form.

Taking cover, she watched as Tyler searched frantically for whatever it was that just dive-bombed him. He crept through the trees, scanning for the source- for her – of the glancing attack; he probably thought it was from the house, some kind of bird. He got to within reaching distance of her, backing in ever closer. Thinking that they had enough fun and games, Fenris put her hand on Tyler's broad shoulder; a bundle of nerves, Tyler nearly jumped out of his skin as he whirled around, drawing an impressive looking knife. He relaxed a little once he realized who she was.

"You rang, sir?" Fenris greeted in her best Addams Family impression. She laughed. "Seriously, man; you need to lighten up a little."

"You're funny, little girl," Tyler shot back. "It took you long enough to get here."

"Hey, if you don't like my timing I can go away just as easily."

"I didn't say that." Tyler replied hastily. "Anyway, what I need is a little reconnaissance, and from there we can figure a way past the cameras. After that, I got some business to settle with the owner of this place."

Fenris eyed him suspiciously. "I thought you said this was a lead on how to get to Damsel." She said. "Or was that just a play to get me to help more willingly?"

"Come on, Fenris," Tyler whispered. "Do you really think I'd do that to either one of you?"

She had to admit, that was out of character. Tyler DeFaulte was nothing if not a loyal team player. Not only that, but he and Damsel were very much alike in that they were fiercely honorable and protective of those they gave a damn about. Using Damsel as bait to hook her in to help was a move she might expect from Cameron, Ajax, or maybe even Xavier. Marko wasn't quite as likely to pull such shenanigans, but even he was more likely than Tyler to play his love as a means to an end towards some kind of personal vendetta.

He pointed towards the house. "The people in there are Russian Gangsters." He explained. "They're the ones who shot up and firebombed my club. They're of the same family that I liberated the club from in the first place. But that isn't even the important thing. The important thing is the club stuff was a diversion to grab Damsel."

"How does that make sense?" Fenris challenged. "What would the Russian Mob want with Damsel?"

"Not the Russians;" Tyler answered. "It's who the Russians work with. You know those Feds that have been moving in at the old LaCroix Tower? They're not Feds at all; they're a private army with a bunch of different investors. The government is one of those investors, and these bastards are another."

Fenris was catching on. "You figure they might know how to get into the tower and know where this army is keeping Damsel. If she's still alive that is."

Tyler nodded. "I think I already have a way in; it's just a matter of waiting for the right piece of equipment. The thing is I bet these bastards will be able to fill us in on the details we need once we're inside. That's why I need some idea what we're up against beyond that wall."

Fenris told Tyler what her fly-by revealed to her.

"The guards and the dogs aren't as big a problem as they seem." Tyler said after a brief assessment. "Clearing the wire shouldn't be any trouble, either. All we need is to get past those cameras and motion detectors."

Lowering her head, Fenris sighed. "I can get past them." She announced. "Then it's just a matter of finding their source to shut them off. I'll give you a signal when it's done." Before Tyler could comment, she added; "Two things: You owe me for this, Damsel or no Damsel; and once I give the signal, I'm out of here. This is your thing."

For a second, Tyler had a shocked expression on his face- like she just slapped him or something. He opened his mouth to object, and then clamped it shut and just nodded. "That's fair." He said finally.

Satisfied, Fenris turned to mist-form and crept along the wall until she got to the gate. In addition to the dogs, there were a pair of guards; fortunately they were dozing, so they were easy enough to slip past, completely oblivious to the mist seeping into the property. It was turning out to be a chilly night after a warmish afternoon, so a mist lifting off the ground was not unusual; hopefully the men inside would not take note of the odd movement of the mist as she worked her way to the house.

After slipping under the door, Fenris reverted to her hominid form; mist indoors was pretty much guaranteed to rouse suspicion. From this point on, she was basically blind; she really had no idea what to expect. One thing she did know, though, she needed to feed. Unfortunately, it looked like that would have to wait since nobody was around to fill that void here in the foyer. The only thing she could do at the moment was try to figure out where the cameras and the motion detectors were being controlled. She decided the easiest way to figure this out was to start at the bottom and work her way up.

The hall she was in led her to a sitting room, which connected to dining room which struck her more as a banquet room, which was adjacent to what had to be the largest domestic kitchen she had ever seen. Of course, that didn't really say a whole lot; growing up in a low-rent neighborhood in Chicago, most of the kitchens she saw could barely fit two people in it and maybe had a full fridge with an actual freezer as opposed to an icebox in it. None of that much mattered to her; what really struck her was how impeccably clean the house was in general. Not a speck of dust was to be found anywhere, and the place was curiously odorless. She would have guessed that maybe that Walker guy was born here if she didn't know this place was relatively new.

"Is someone there?" A voice deep within the kitchen rang out. It was a man's voice. She ducked down behind a set of cupboards that made a kind island between what looked to her like a walk-in pantry and a six element stove. She heard footsteps coming closer to her vicinity, and deftly worked her way around the island to avoid being spotted as a fat man in cook's whites with an incongruously small voice walked by and stopped just within reaching distance, his back to her.

She could not pass the opportunity up; she was just too hungry for that. Like the predator she was, she pounced upon the cook with fangs bared, easily overpowering him and sinking her canine-like teeth into his soft, warm, supple flesh. He made an almost effeminate squeaking noise as she bit, and moaned in what was like a perverse ecstasy as she began to suckle the precious vitae out him; his size and shape would have suggested a poor diet, which would have made for a poor feed, but this one was in fact quite healthy, clearly there really was such a thing as too much of a good thing. This fat man with a small voice was just packed with all sorts of good things; really quite ideal for her needs...

She had to force herself to stop before killing the poor fool. As she pulled herself away from his tasty essence, the fat cook crumpled to floor, completely incapacitated. Looking around, she searched frantically for a place to store him. The only place she could see was the walk in Pantry – if that's what it was. It wouldn't do for someone to find him and raise an alarm, so she dragged his form towards the door and opened it; she was pleased to find it was indeed a pantry, well stocked with several bottles of Vodka and assorted liquors as well as food. She pulled the cook into the pantry, grabbed a large bottle of Vodka, opened it and placed it in his hand after spilling some of it onto his whites. Hopefully, even if was found, he would be thought to simply be passed out drunk. Stepping out of the Pantry, she closed the door behind her and crept across the kitchen where she found another door. Opening it just a crack, she took a peek and saw a staircase leading down into a cellar of some sort. Somewhere in the cellar, a soft glow – like that of a television – could be discerned. _Was it a television, or was it maybe a computer monitor?_

Knowing only one way to find out for sure, she carefully made her way down the steps, hoping that none of them would creak. Given the pristine condition of the house so far, she doubted very much they would. At the bottom of the steps, the dark of the cellar helped her a great deal; it was fairly simple to move around undetected towards the source of the flickering glow.

It was not a computer monitor; it was three of them. They were being manned by a skinny bald guy wearing a black suit. Skinny bald was watching the monitors and speaking into a headset in what she presumed was Russian. He had the voice the cook should have had. As she closed in on him, he laughed humorlessly and pushed something on the headset, apparently ending whatever conversation he was having. He clicked a few keys on one of three keyboards and stood up slowly. Then, just when she was nearly on top of him, he whirled around, a Colt Python revolver in his hand trained on her.

Skinny bald was quick, she gave him that; but he was not quick enough. Before he could squeeze the trigger she had grabbed his wrist and snapped it sharply to one side, breaking something in there. Even as he started to cry out in pain her free hand was on his throat, cutting off his air supply. She then pulled him away from the computers and locked in a choke hold that would render him unconscious in a matter of seconds – even quicker if he tried to fight it off hard enough; which of course he did. Again, she had to give Skinny bald some credit; he was a lot stronger and wirier than he looked. If this was fair fight, he would have had a chance; he may even have won.

Once Skinny bald was out, she made quick work of scrounging for some Duct tape to bind him with; just in case he came to sooner than she expected him to. Sure he was secured; Fenris turned her attention to the monitors. Sure enough, two of them were real-time feeds to the cameras. On the far left, the monitor rotated through several different views just beyond the wall, including the tree line where she left Tyler. The middle seemed to serve as a command station, and the one on the right rotated through cameras apparently set within the house. She watched the right monitor until she was sure she went through an entire rotation, and was relieved to note not once did she see any of the rooms or halls she was just in. She went back to the middle monitor. Fortunately, it was already in use, so she didn't need to find a password. Then her heart sank a little. She couldn't read any of the text on the screen; it was all in Russian.

Cursing between her teeth, she clicked on the mouse, hoping to find an icon option for what she needed; no such luck. However, she did notice that the system was in fact bought Stateside, and the language of the script could be changed to whatever language the user wanted. She clicked to English, at which point the system apparently asked her a question. In an attempt at logic, she guessed it was asking if she wanted to switch users since it appeared to be a yes or no question. She clicked on what she was fairly certain was yes, and the system began a restart cycle. Waiting for the cycle to finish, she crossed her fingers in the hope she did not set off any alarms.

Finally the system was back online. Now that all the script was in English, she could see the way everything was set up was remarkably simple and efficient. It was quick work to locate both the camera and the motion sensor controls. Ro shut them off was an easy task; not so much as a password was required. These gangsters were way too overconfident. Obviously they had no idea what they were dealing with. The cameras were turned off. The motion sensors were turned off. All she had to do now was notify Tyler and get out of here.

Then she heard a chattering on Skinny Bald's headset. She thought he turned it off. Apparently she was mistaken. Whoever was on the other end of the conversation seemed agitated; but then that could just be the way the language sounded to her ears. Still, there was no point in taking any chances. Cursing again through her teeth, she texted Tyler, warning him they know something is up. Next she popped her claws and started carefully up the stairs, expecting to have to fight her way out of this house. It looked like Tye was getting a little extra help after all...


	7. Chapter 7

Both Therese and Cameron looked at her sideways for what seemed like an eternity before either of them spoke; it might have been they believed she spoke out of turn, or it may have been that she didn't say something about this earlier. Knowing the way the Camarilla ran things, Fenris guessed it may have been a little bit of both issues. Even as the report was coming out of her mouth, she was starting to regret it, but she found she couldn't let Damsel get in shit for something she could do nothing about. Fenris would just have to take the heat that she was going to get instead.

"When exactly did this apprehension occur?" Therese demanded.

"The night Tyler's Club got attacked."

"Do you mean to tell us that we have been without a Sheriff since then and you only bother to tell us now?" Cameron challenged. Therese quickly raised a hand to silence the Seneschal; it was clear the Prince wanted to address this.

"You better have a good explanation, Gangrel." The Prince warned.

Fenris had to think quickly. "I thought I had advised you on the situation, highness." She said. "If you say that I have not, then the error is mine. I can only suppose that between my efforts monitor the Brujah, and help the Nosferatu obtain that Ravnos for questioning, and keeping track of Jeanette's activities per your orders I may have been unable to contact you and inform you. Again, if this isn't the case, the error is mine, but I was sure that you instructed me to remind you to be sure to ask the Brujah Primogen for an update on the status of Damsel's extraction."

The Prince regarded her with intense scrutiny, but said nothing in response. Fenris couldn't be sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. Part of her claim was true; Therese did order her to be an extra memory bank for her, and she really wasn't sure if she advised her about Damsel or not. The part that wasn't exactly true was that she was almost certain she had not. That wasn't such a good thing.

Cameron regarded her a moment longer after the Prince turned away, and then spoke quietly to Therese.

"Highness, my concern now is whether or not Damsel may be compromised even if the Brujah extraction plan is successful." He said. "Suppose these hunters are counting on her being rescued so they have a mole within our courts? I realize that sounds unlikely from humans, but this group are highly funded and have already proven to be very resourceful. Perhaps we should consider looking for a replacement? Better to err on the side of caution, don't you think?"

"Thank you, Seneschal, for voicing your concern." Therese said. "The point you bring up is a valid one, and shall be taken under advisement. Off the record, if it came to that, do you have any recommendations?"

"I realize this may be an unorthodox option to consider, Highness," Cameron replied, "but I understand the newest addition to Clan Nosferatu has a background in law enforcement and investigation. While it's true that he is new to your city and still very young, from what I have been able to discern he is by no means out of his element or lacking in experience in such an occupation. Perhaps he should be put on a short list of possible candidates?"

Behind them and not in their immediate line of sight, Fenris grimaced. She just hoped neither of them asked for her insight. Damsel was her friend- maybe her best friend, as hard as that would have been to fathom less than a year ago- but Walker was good; really, really good. He was so good it was kind of scary, actually. If they asked her, that would put her in a mad bad place; should she lie and hopefully protect her friend, or tell the truth and possibly screw her over? She could play the young card up to evade the question, but how long would that last? _I hate this politics crap._

"Actually, that's not a bad idea." Therese agreed. "I had made a suggestion to him that he consult the Sheriff about being deputized; it might be wise to watch Damsel should she be successfully extracted to determine if a replacement is in order."

"If his performance just in his first few nights in your city is any indication, then Mr. Walker of Clan Nosferatu is certainly worth consideration." Cameron insisted gently. "In fact, he was an important part of the capture and interrogation of that Ravnos on Long Beach that I told you about." He turned to Fenris. "Do I recall that correctly, Fenris?"

 _Damn it, there's no way to evade that question!_

"Yes, Seneschal, you do." She admitted.

"Very well," Therese said. "I'll keep your recommendation under advisement, Seneschal." The Prince nodded towards the Gathering before them. "Shall we begin, then?"

"We absolutely should, Highness." Cameron bowed. Fenris couldn't help but see him as a pandering ass- kisser in that moment just before he turned his attention back to her. "Would you care to do the honors, Scourge? I realize it is not precisely within your typical duties to do so, but I imagine both her Highness and I can agree you have earned the privilege."

The Prince nodded her consent.

 _He's pandering to everybody tonight! Because that doesn't make it look like he's setting to make some kind of move..._ She thought. _I think I like him better as a corporate predator, actually..._

Putting on a thin smile to show gratitude and hating herself for getting drawn into the politics game even a little bit, she stepped forward to face the crowd. She took a quick moment to scan the scene before speaking.

Curiously, the Brujah were in formal dress wear that had a distinctly Navy look and were all standing at attention already; all except Tyler, who was speaking quietly with Xavier. As what always seemed to be the case, the Tabetha and the Tremere kept to themselves, looking as shady as ever. It struck Fenris as odd that the Nosferatu had actually pretty much clustered together- they usually try to spread out in order to listen to and watch the other Clans and dig up what they can. Tonight they seemed to be gathered around Bertram. The only ones set apart were Ajax and Walker; they were watching the stage very closely. Her Clan were all towards the back of the large room, clearly only barely interested enough to be here. The Toreador, with the exception of Xavier, seemed intent on assisting VV play Keeper of Elysium. The only Clan managing to outdo the Brujah for immediate attentiveness was the Ventrue Clan; the big difference was they seemed to be sincere about their care. The Malkavians ran the spectrum of behaviors, though most seemed to be on the best behavior they could manage.

"Kindred of the City Angels!" she called out. "On behalf of her Highness Therese Vooreman, Prince of Los Angeles, I call this Gathering to order!"

She stepped back to her position just this side of the wings of the stage as the Prince stepped forward to take center stage. The crowd fell silent.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

From the ventilation system, an unearthly mist poured out and into the sub-basement corridor. In short order the mist began to solidify and Fenris Fraust crouched down to assess her surroundings. Convinced she was clear, she took a moment to deliberate which direction to take in order to find the ideal place to set the EMP that Tyler reluctantly handed her.

By rights, the Gangrel should be incredulous; despite the Prince's order, Tyler and his Brujah tried to brush her off. If the truth be told, she wasn't at all offended. She could have taken the pass that Tye offered her; part of her wanted to. She might have if Damsel wasn't involved. Whatever the case, she played the Brujah's game; she 'talked' him into adding her into the mix, and here she was on the inside. It was obvious she was already way deeper in than Tye was likely to get without her help, and now she could clear the path a little bit. First she had to decide which direction she wanted to go. Ideally she wanted deeper still, but to do that, she needed to orient herself; which way would lead deeper and which would bring her back to the surface.

In either direction, the doors at the end of the corridor looked like they were sliding doors. They both had some kind of palm lock on them, which probably meant they would be jammed right where they were once the power went down. That wouldn't be much of a problem for the Brujah, but most might think she is trapped right where she is. Or they would if they weren't aware of what the Gangrel Clan can do; especially when the doors to a room are anything less than airtight. Figuring this corridor was as good a place as any to set the EMP; she put the device down and set the timer.

Taking a deep breath more out of habit than any other reason, Fenris reverted once again into Mist form; fully aware of how taxing this would be on her blood. Once the transformation was complete, she slowly crept towards one of the doors hoping all the while that she would choose the right one. Squeezing through the seams of the door she chose was a slow process; the breach was tight, and Mist tends to move slowly anyway. She wasn't exactly worried about it; there wasn't likely much on the other side of the door that could hurt her and the concussion blast from the device was nothing in this form. Unless there was someone waiting with a blowtorch, she was basically good to go. Finally she got all the way through and then took her usual form to get a gander at what exactly was going on down here.

If she still had bodily functions, she probably would have vomited at what she found. At least now she had an idea where some of the diminishing homeless population went to.

 _They call_ us _monsters!_

There were rows of vagrants on gurneys; all of them in what looked like some kind of induced coma. At first glance, Fenris counted at least thirty people; three of them had tubes sticking out of them which were slowly draining blood out of them. She followed the tube trails to a junction. The tubes all fed into a larger tube that worked its way through a series of pumps and valves that must have served a purpose that she didn't understand until they fed into Damsel who was also set on a gurney; she was restrained and had another tube that dripped into a beaker. She noted an enclosed shelving unit with several similar beakers.

Having dropped out of school to jam out of Chicago at the ripe old age of seventeen; in order to get away from the pimps that put her on the street to facilitate her Junk habit, Fenris landed in LA. It was here that she met the man she tried to hustle for some cash that ended up turning her into a Gangrel. It was to get her off the Junk, he said; just before LaCroix's goons busted down the door and staked both of them. That was the night of the trial. That was the night that LaCroix had his gorilla Sheriff slaughter seven kindred he claimed were his friends; all because they sired children without permission. On that night ten years ago that son of a bitch was about to ash every last one of them, too; he would have, too, if not for the intervention of Nines Rodriguez. She had always thought that was the worst thing ever. As bad as LaCroix was, these so called people were worse. She didn't have the greatest education, but she had an idea what was going on; she believed that somewhere in this facility there were hypodermic needles and those were being used to inject Damsel's blood into the Brightstone thugs.

Damsel groaned softly. Though the effort was weak at best, Fenris found it encouraging; not only was she not rendered torpid from being bled out and barely kept fed, but she was able to retain some level of consciousness. As much as she liked to call the Brujah out for being soft under her tough, hard-ass veneer, it was obvious to anyone who really knew Damsel that at her core, she was every bit as tough as she made herself out to be; her drive and passion were indomitable.

"Don't try to talk right now." Fenris said to her as she started to undo the restraints. "Tye and your boys are upstairs. We're working on getting you out of here." She stopped herself from asking about the vagrants, realizing that to do so would contradict her initial request for no talking. Despite the request, Damsel whispered something that Fenris, even with her heightened senses, couldn't make out the first time around.

"What was that?" she asked, figuring it might be important.

"It's a set up." Damsel managed. "Put together by that Russian asshole at the last minute."

"Don't worry about that right now. We got this covered." Fenris reassured her.

"I wouldn't be so sure about that, hot stuff." A scratchy, greasy sounding voice rang out behind her. Fenris popped her claws and whirled around to face the source of the interruption. About ten feet away there were six beefy looking dudes all done up in what looked like SWAT gear with shotguns pointed at the two of them. Behind them was a pork-chop of a man who reeked of bad pizza and cheap coffee. The pork-chop wore faded khakis of no particular color, a uniform shirt with the Brightstone logo on it; above the logo a nametag which read 'A. Kilpatrick'. Tinted glasses covered his eyes and a crew cut framed his almost square-shaped head.

"I gotta tell ya," Kilpatrick said as he pulled out a tranquilizer gun. "It's actually kind of lucky you got this far down. It means we don't have to carry you as far to set up another food bank for our soldiers." He laughed a laugh that made Fenris think vaguely of Elmer Fudd as he started to train the weapon her; his six thugs standing aside as he did so.

That was when they all heard the dull thump-pop before the lights went out.


	9. Chapter 9

Fenris had to act quickly. The surprise of the blackout resulting from the detonation of the EMP would be short lived. In the moment that everyone, including A. 'Pork Chop' Kilpatrick was fuddled by the sudden darkness, Fenris made her move; with the quickness of a wolf, she dove forward through the six beefcakes at the Pork Chop, claws out. Snarling as she reached him, she had him pinned to the floor.

By the time the Beefcakes realized what had happened, Fenris was back on her feet, using the Pork Chop as a shield; her claws at his throat.

"You bozos better stand down," she warned them. "Stand down and release her and those people or Porky here gets a Columbian necktie! Get it?"

It was too late when she realized that there were only five of the Beefcakes in front of her; one of the managed to slip behind her and clocked her at the base of her skull with the butt end of his shotgun. The blow was harder than she would have thought possible from a human and stunned her enough to force her to release Pork Chop. He scrambled aside and took a weak cheap shot across her jaw.

"Take her out, fellas." Kilpatrick whined. The other five Beefcakes moved in and started bashing her with nightsticks; again their blows were considerably harder than she would have thought mortals- even well muscled mortals like them should be able. Under their barrage, Fenris collapsed; their blows kept coming until they parted enough for the one that landed the first blow to train his shotgun to her temple after shucking the weapon. She got a glimpse of Kilpatrick grinning like a pig wallowing in shit.

"STOP IT!" Damsel shouted.

The Beefcakes all balked in their actions and looked over at her.

"You heard what she said;" Damsel continued. "Let us down."

"What the hell are you doing?" Kilpatrick demanded as the Beefcakes started towards the hobos and Damsel. Fenris was picking herself up when he continued. "I give the orders here, I ordered you to finish that skank off."

"You with the kidney buster," Damsel said, looking at Shotgun. "Shut him up."

Shotgun approached Kilpatrick, traded glances between him and Damsel; "I'm sorry, sir." He finally said before knocking him out with the stock of his gun. He then headed straight for Damsel and started to undo her restraints. Quickly Fenris joined him. Once her restraints were undone, Damsel buckled a little, allowing Fenris to catch her and hold her up.

Since shot gun had put down his weapon, Fenris said, "I got her. You go help your comrades with the others."

He looked at Damsel dubiously. She nodded, and he left to help release the hobos.

"You look like shit." Damsel commented.

Fenris guffawed. "Look in a mirror lately, bitch?" She retorted. She was glad to see that the typical rapport between them was still the same as always; it was a good sign Damsel would be okay. "So what just happened here?"

"I'll explain later, kid." Damsel replied. "Right now I need you to get me to that Pork Chop over there and then we can get the fuck outta this dump."

Fenris practically dragged the Brujah over to where Kilpatrick lay unconscious. She fell on him, bit him and fed as deeply as she dared. Finished, she struggled to her feet. The look on her face reminded Fenris of an expression one might have after swallowing a mouthful of slightly sour milk. "Any port in a storm, I guess." She said. Despite the bad eats, Damsel looked a little better.

By the time the hobos were all down, four more Beefcakes came rushing in from some emergency exits somewhere and for reasons that Fenris didn't quite grasp, immediately fell under whatever spell or whatever it was that Damsel seemed to have on the others.

She looked at one of them. "How many elevators are there?" She asked.

"There's three on this floor." He replied. "But the power is out, and there's an incident upstairs, and looters outside."

"What about back up power?" She demanded.

"That's out too." Shotgun answered.

"Is there another way to use them in a blackout?" Damsel asked.

"They each have an emergency hand crank in case someone is trapped inside." One of the four newbies said. "But those are a hassle to use."

Damsel looked around. "Get the doors open manually and get on those cranks." She ordered.

Fenris was about to object and recommend the stairs, but thought better of it. Odds were more likely the stairs would be guarded; nobody would think anyone would try to use the elevators manually. It was such a stupid move it would probably actually work. All the same it would take way too long for her liking; especially being in a little cramped space like a crowded elevator.

"Screw that." She said finally. "If you're okay now, I got my own way out."

Damsel glared at her impatiently for a second, then a kind of clarity clicked; she must have seen this was a claustrophobia issue. She waved Fenris off. Fenris turned into mist and seeped her way through the elevator doors and up the shaft.

Outside amidst the looting and pillaging, feeding was a ridiculously simple task; even with two different groups participating in crowd control, grabbing and feeding off a looter and the matter getting lost in the chaos was very much like shooting fish in a barrel. Granted, it wasn't the best meal she had ever had, but it had to be better than that Pork Chop Damsel had to make do with.

Once fed; once the hunger was sated, Fenris got herself to the Asylum in Santa Monica and was in the suite upstairs that Therese shared with her sister. If there was one perk to her situation, it was that she rarely if ever had to wait long to see the Prince; she was usually given a priority clearance in that realm. Over the past few months, she even pr-empted Cameron once. In fact, the harder Fenris thought about it, really the only person she couldn't pre-empt was Jeanette, and that made enough sense; Jeanette was family twice over, after all. As far as Fenris knew, Therese was the one who embraced her younger twin sister.

In the suite, Fenris reported all that she saw and did in the Brightstone building.

Therese scowled. "That is very disturbing." She commented; more to herself than to Fenris.

"I agree, Highness." Fenris concurred. "Hunters farming us to gain an edge will make them more dangerous and poses a huge threat to the Masquerade."

"Absolutely," the Prince said absently. "However, these hunters seem to be operating under a kind of shadow mandate of their own. Chances are good they'll either have a cover story or play along with whatever one we come up with."

"I think that is already in motion highness." Fenris replied. "News up and down the Coast shows protests against the 'secret police' that the government is trying to implement in several major cities. On my way here I got the impression that these protests are the work of the Toreador and the Brujah Clans."

"Impressions are well and good, but I'm going to need confirmation." Therese responded almost indifferently. "What really concerns me is the sudden jump in the ghoul population you just reported. I don't like the idea of our Sheriff having an army of well trained ghouls; especially given her tendencies towards the Anarch Movement. She could try to use them against me."

"I suppose that's possible highness." Fenris said, though she didn't think that was terribly likely. Most of the Anarchs generally frowned on making ghouls; they thought of the whole process as a kind of slavery and a threat to the Masquerade. If the Gangrel was going to be honest, she tended to agree; and what she had seen of Vandal Carver was a perfect example.

Therese glared at her. "You suppose that's possible?" She asked coldly; a tone that normally preceded a tirade. "SINCE WHEN DO I ASK FOR YOUR CONJECTURE? I need you to find out for certain what the Brujah mean to do with those new ghouls. Or better yet, since I KNOW YOU'RE FRIENDS WITH HER, I need you to TELL HER TO RELEASE THEM! DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?"

"Yes, highness," Fenris bowed deeply.

"Good; I'm glad we finally understand each other." Therese said calmly. "As long as we do things my way, Gangrel, all will be well in my city. You may go now."

"Very well, highness; but first may I ask your counsel on one more item?"

"Of course you may," The Prince allowed. "If you're ever in doubt, it is better to ask than to assume."

"What would you like done concerning Alexis Dragisha, the Ravnos on the beach?"

"As long as he stays on the beach for the rest of the week he'll be allowed to leave in peace." Therese answered. "I appreciate the fact your respective Clans have a special dislike for each other, and as a reward for your service I will not allow him to return. Still, the Ravnos are known to be deceivers. Be sure they are watched very closely."

Satisfied, Fenris nodded and left to catch up with Damsel and the Brujah. She had an idea they would regroup at the Last Round.


	10. Chapter 10

Two full days had passed, and just as she expected Fenris found nothing to suggest that Damsel was keeping the Brightstone ghouls. Not that there was a lot of reason to think she was; sheriff or not, Damsel was still an Anarch soul. Typically Anarchs are strongly adverse to the entire ghouling process; or at least that's what Skelter told her before the Assamite got him. Just Mike once explained that to the Anarch Movement, which was all about Libertas, the making of a ghoul was nothing but a form of blood- slavery and therefore is counterintuitive to the entire premise of what it meant to be an Anarch.

That made sense to Fenris; how could one demand personal freedom and then subject another to oppression, abuse, and slavery? Shit like that was straight up inhuman; sure, they were officially monsters, but if they were supposed to hold onto every scrap of humanity they had left that would have to mean it was their obligation to avoid that which added to their damnation as much as possible. She doubted she could relay that logic to Therese, but she could say there was no empirical evidence to suggest Damsel was building an army of ghouls. She might be able to add that for the Brujah to do something like that doesn't fit the way she typically rolls. All the same, Fenris decided it would be best to wait a couple more nights before reporting that; just to make the effort look more thorough.

Tonight, the Gangrel hound – as a few of the other Kindred had taken to calling her – found herself at the Pit, Xavier's music venue club. His house band had an injured drummer, so a band from Canada was filling in for awhile. Apparently they were starting to become kind of a big deal up and down the West Coast; a group of punks that called themselves Naked Fire. This was really the last place Fenris wanted to be; but since this was the place many of the Kindred were coming, she saw little option. The place itself wasn't so bad; X had it kept pretty clean and well maintained, but there was that ever-present lingering THC stink to the place. It was subtle, but always there. There was also the fact that she thought all the bands that played here sucked ass. In fact, the only place that ever played anything decent was Tye's old place, and that was history now. It was for this reason, among a few, that Fenris made a point of standing as close to an exit as she possibly could. There was also the reason that from this vantage point the only place she couldn't really see in the open area was above her, and even from there she couldn't be ambushed since her back was to a wall and she could see all access points.

Then the Tremere walked in. Fenris had to admit it seemed unlikely that Tabetha would come to an event like this. If there was Clan business here, Fenris would have thought she'd send Rutger or something. Of course the little witch had been around Asylum a lot the past few nights; being Jeanette's little fangirl and plaything. Maybe she was trying to come out of her shell.

"Well, yours is a face I never thought I'd see at one of these deals." The Gangrel commented. "I always figured you to be one those hardcore introvert types that sit at home with her nose in a book and a cat in her lap."

"How cute;" Tabetha replied, grinning thinly. "I'm being judged by the quintessential run away turned errand girl." She paused to scan the floor, as if looking for someone specific. "So what is the errand of the night? Are you protecting the Prince, or baby-sitting her baby sister?"

"What do you know?" She said, laughing in mock surprise. Really it was no surprise at all; little Tabby-Cat was looking for her momma. "The big-brain witch-bitch got something dead wrong. I'm here in a purely investigative capacity."

Tabetha responded with a scrutinizing hum. "Let me guess;" she said. "The nature of your investigation is confidential."

Fenris said nothing.

"I'll go one farther." Tabetha went on. "If I don't already know, then I don't need to. You could tell me, but then you'd have to kill me; some kind of action movie bullshit like that."

Fenris said nothing. It was actually kind of fun to see one of the mighty House and Clan Tremere squirm and jitter – so clearly giving away that she was way out of her comfort zone.

Not that Fenris cared, but Tabetha seemed genuinely impressed with her ability to keep her mouth shut. " **The Prince has chosen her agent well, I see.** " She said, and turned away. To the Gangrel, it looked like the Tremere was shocked she said anything at all. It was like the words came out of her mouth but not because she meant to say them, as innocuous as they were. Even more intriguing, there was something funny about her voice; it was like it dropped an octave or two for a second. She looked through the crowd, waved at X when he spotted her. Tyler spotted her too and suddenly clamed up on whatever they were talking about. Finally the Tremere moved onto the floor and gravitated towards VV, who was just finishing up with Damsel.

Earlier, she saw Kaila go backstage; she assumed she knew someone in the band. The singer most likely; he was obviously Kindred. Russ Norton was his name; he had an odd scent to him that Fenris couldn't quite identify. He was certainly one of the undead, that was no mistake, but beyond that it was unclear. It wasn't that weird no-smell that the Wunderkind had; it was more like he smelled a little bit like everything. She couldn't decide if that was good or bad; it was very disturbing, yet it had a way of drawing her to him at the same time.

In any case, she must have managed to lose track of Kaila, because the next thing Fenris knew Cameron's little dancer was coming down the stairs; most likely taking a little time out to make out with her sugar daddy Ventrue upstairs. It was only as she approached that it occurred to Fenris just how tiny Kaila was; she stood at _maybe_ 5 feet tall, more like four and nine inches.

So what was it about the little hobbit that made her so intimidating? She looked like something Fenris could fold up and pack into a suitcase, yet the Gangrel could swear on a stack of bibles that her legs felt like water every time that Toreador was around. It could be her Clan's skills with the Discipline of Presence; but it seemed like more than that. She was just so...perfect that it was scary. Her raven hair, her emerald eyes which seemed to almost glow in the dark, her dark complexion, the way she moved her perfect frame and worked her perfect proportions; it was like there wasn't a single flaw to her and yet something was terribly wrong with this picture. It was all so inhuman; far worse than anything she had ever experienced. Though to be fair, Fenris only had ten years or so experience with these things. Whatever it was about Kaila, Fenris both wanted her and to run away from her in complete terror.

And then Kaila smiled at her. Fenris nearly lost her balance and barely kept from giving an awkward school-girl grin back.

"Helping X out with security tonight?" the Toreador asked.

"Um... no..." Fenris replied, doing her best to sound cool. "I'm here on an investigative endeavor on behalf of Prince Therese Vooreman."

"Very interesting," Kaila said, clearly not interested in the least. "As much as I'd love to continue chatting with you, I have a small matter to attend to back home. If you will excuse me?"

Fenris cocked her head to one side and stepped out of the way; allow the creepy little hobbit to pass without a word.

Finally Xavier stepped onto the stage; making ready to get the show started. As he did so, Fenris took note that Tyler, VV, and Damsel stealing away up a set of steps towards the back of the building; Fenris never really registered that there were steps back there. Now that she thought of it; she supposed they led to an office of some sort. The young Gangrel didn't have much of a mind for politics, so now she found she couldn't puzzle out why those three would want private time at what was supposed to be a big party. A smirk crossed her face as she pondered just what kind of 'private party' they might want to have; probably with X once he was done with introducing the band.

The buzz of the crowd momentarily rose to a roar before X raised his arms to prompt them into silence. The roar died off.

"Welcome to the Pit!" X greeted; a roar of excitement was the response he received. "Are you ready to light up the night?" The crowd cheered to the affirmative. Xavier waved them down to a tense murmur. "As many of you already know, due to injury we will not be serving up any Ebola Cereal tonight." He added a few sympathetic indications that he knew and understood the crowds' disappointment. "But tonight, we have a special treat for each and every one of you! Tonight we kick off the return of the hottest group burning its way into the hearts and minds of the entire West Coast! Gather 'round, ladies and gents, and give it up for... NAKED FIRE!"

The lights went out, and save for the moonglow from the skylight above the dance floor the room was pitch. Actually, the moonglow created an interestingly eerie effect; Fenris now understood why he kept it after taking over the place after Ash vanished. With her enhanced senses, Fenris could barely see X quietly and efficiently steal away up those stairs she presumed led to his office. A hush fell over the crowd, and faintly at first but growing steadily clearer a rhythmic wash of cymbals could be heard; as it rose in intensity, a voice whispered –more like _hissed_ from within the wash:

"Watch out! Look out!  
Better get ready, 'cause here comes Trouble!"  
"Watch out! Look out!  
'Cause ready or not, here comes Trouble!"

The band, on the stage in the dark, allowed the crowd to work themselves into a frenzy with nothing more than a single plucking from a bass string as the cycle repeated until the crowd felt like it was about to explode...

...and then the stage exploded in a blinding flash first. The crowd on the floor sounded as if they were having a simultaneous orgasm as the band kicked into the opening riffs of a song they all apparently knew very well; some kind of grinding metal racket that Fenris expected would make her ears bleed, but for the fact it was actually well done she sort of found it easy to get into. And then Norton sang like he was hung like a jury:

"I'm so sick and tired  
Of being sick and tired  
Of living in your lies.  
And I don't see the point  
of seeing your point  
Tell me why should I even try?

"Knock me down,  
Beat me down,  
Watch me get back up again.  
Can't keep me down,  
Can't keep me down,  
'Cause now I'm getting up again.

"And now I'm laughing!  
Yeah, I'm laughing at you...  
Are you ready?  
Better get ready, 'cause ready or not, here comes Trouble."

A short set of solos followed, where the singer quickly introduced each of his bandmates; naming himself last as Russell Norton. This was followed with a final admonition to watch out and look out, we better get ready, 'cause ready or not, here comes Trouble.

"Thank you LA!" Norton bellowed. The crowd replied with a cheer, followed by a chant of NAKED FIRE, to which Norton answered back; "Thank you, Los Angeles, thank you so very much!" And then he blew the crowd a waving kiss.

"Do you want another?" He asked, to which the crowd cheered to the affirmative.

"Do you want more?" He asked, as if he couldn't hear them. The crowd cheered louder still.

Russell Norton nodded, apparently satisfied. "Then let me tell you something..." The crowd erupted; clearly they had an idea what was coming next, to Fenris' estimation. The drummer kicked his bass drum twice, like it was a cue.

"Let me," Norton said once the crowd fell silent again, "tell you...what they...told me."

The crowd went into what seemed like a near frenzy as the band went into a surprisingly effective fusion of metal and hip-hop. Fenris Fraust actually started getting into it a little; particularly when Norton pretty much growled the chorus looking at her. For an instant it was like he was speaking directly to her:

"You just have to be yourself,  
Be yourself, all will be well.  
That's who I am; I am myself  
now you tell me go to Hell!  
"WHAT THE FUCK?!"

And that was when the shit went down.

When it did, it started coming down right through the moonglow skylight with a crash which stunned the crowd for a fraction of a second before scattering in all directions to escape the shower of glass shards that fell like rain. As the spectators scattered, most clambering towards whichever exit was nearest, Russell Norton and his band retreated backstage. Meanwhile, through the now destroyed skylight, three figures came rappelling down on cables; armed with some kind of rifles.

Fenris found at least one proverbial silver lining here; it was a sure bet that the Brightstone goons from Damsel's extraction are definitely not under her thrall. Prince Therese does not need to worry about Damsel having an army of ghouls to set against her. They were here now, and it didn't look like they were planning on being of any kind of service to the Sherriff. She also noted that most of the crowd was getting out safely enough; certainly the bulk of Kine were. It looked like the Kindred were planning on standing their ground. More importantly, it looked as if the Brightstone goons were letting the Kine get out before doing much of anything besides looking all badass in their SWAT – like gear. The crowd significantly thinned, Fenris started to make her move. Claws still in, she began to charge the goons in the middle of the dance floor just as two more came bursting in through the front door. Looking back, Fenris made a split second decision; the Kine crowd was cleared out, and the three on the floor were getting moved in on anyway. She popped her claws and pounced at the two thugs coming in through the foyer. The one on the right dove aside, but she got to the one on the left. The thug went down pretty easy; she tore out his throat with some very little effort only to be rewarded with a jolt of electricity stunning her. The other thug, some kind of shock baton in hand, grinned maliciously as she writhed in the hall.

"You like that, bitch?" He sneered at her, apparently enjoying his own joke as he followed that up with a barking noise. "Does the blood-puppy want another?" He asked, nailing her again. Her hair standing on end, the voltage felt like fire in her veins. The thug laughed derisively.

And that was his big mistake. That bought the Gangrel just enough time to recuperate enough to mount a counterattack; slamming into him a shoulder block and knocking him down. She followed that up with a hard kick to the head which knocked his helmet clean off. Fangs bared, she grabbed the thug by the collar; ready to bite and feed...

...and then something across the club exploded.

Glancing up, Fenris realized with something near panic that the explosion came from X's office- or what she figured was his office. Tyler and Damsel flew out and landed on the dance floor like a couple of sacks of meat. She had just enough time to note the fighting on the floor had stopped; that the thugs were down and out, but the flames from the explosion drove the other Kindred out before the one she had pinned down stuck her with something. The shock of pain was just enough to allow the goon to shove her off of him. Fenris managed to get to her feet and saw that the goon had stuck her with was a small wooden stake; he obviously didn't get her heart, but it was close. She started to make an effort to pull the damn thing out when the goon surged forward and with a strong front kick forced it in deeper; piercing her heart.


	11. Chapter 11

She just didn't get it. She was doing everything right; yet her unlife kept getting worse. Not only was she in boon with the Prince, but now that bastard Seneschal Cammie had her, too. It seemed no matter what she tried, she ended up getting farther and farther away from getting out of this god forsaken city. Fenris had an idea what was happening; Cameron and Therese were doing all they could to lock her into their service. Now she's really stuck being errand girl for the court of the City of Angels.

 _City of Angels my ass! There's nothing angelic about this burg._

It was now two nights since the attack on the Pit. She was revived that night; thanks to Cameron. She now understood what it was like for Tye when that Assamite staked him before taking out Isaac and framing Damsel; it was Cameron who pulled the stake out that time, too. At the Pit, both Tye and Damsel got hit hard; they were knocked into torpor until earlier this evening. Tyler was in a pretty shitty mood, but otherwise mostly healed up. Damsel was... well Damsel is pretty much always in a shitty mood, so it's hard to tell for sure. One thing is clear, though; she's got a laser focus on tracking down and 'nuking those hunter ass-monkeys into crispy strips of bacon'. Cameron had her watching the Sherriff; so that wasn't anything new. Then quite out of the blue Prince Therese texted her with a special request. Apparently Jeanette wanted to go see the Ravnos Carnival, and now Therese wanted her to monitor her twin sister to make sure she neither caused nor got into any trouble. Fenris found it odd that Therese would text this, but then perhaps she was making an effort to at least seem as progressive as she thought she was.

The Prince outranked the Seneschal, so Cameron could go screw himself if he didn't like that she was pulled off Damsel duty. Besides, she kind of liked the idea of the two of them being at odds with each other. It was a long shot, but maybe she could use that. Fenris now perched in the same spot she did the first time she surveyed the Ravnos camp at Bach Point. This was the last night that Ravnos had reprieve in this Domain. That also made the Gangrel happy; now she could personally tell that scumbag to piss off once his little scam of a show closed up shop. She fully intended to do that anyway no matter what time it was. It could be half an hour before sunrise and the Ravnos would have to leave, as far as Fenris was concerned. Hell, maybe something would happen to him before that; after all, he was merely allowed to operate here temporarily, he was not granted any sort of protection from her highness or the Seneschal...

But that wasn't why she was here; she was here to keep Jeanette from either making a mess or getting herself into one. Tracking and shadowing Jeanette was easy enough, especially since Fenris already knew where she was going. The Gangrel figured that the Malkavian probably already about that; Jeanette might be completely batshit crazy, but she was far from stupid. What did strike Fenris as unusual was the fact that Jeanette chose to go on this excursion alone; neither Marko nor her newest playmate Tabetha (as unlikely as that seemed) were anywhere in sight.

For all appearances, it would seem that the Tremere was finally coming out of shell a little. Personally, Fenris didn't buy that for a second. Tabetha was up to something. Of course she had let Therese know about Jeanette dalliance; not that it was necessary to. Therese was almost as insane as Jeanette, and even farther from being stupid; she immediately regarded the Tremere with even more suspicion than she did Bertram. Fenris had guessed that Therese had someone attempting to monitor Tabetha; possibly Marko. Given the secret that the twins merely staged their rivalry and for the most part got along well enough, chances were good that Jeanette was playing along in order to work out just what Tabetha was playing at.

Fenris scowled internally. She so hated all this drama and intrigue. For now, it was best just to focus on the task at hand. From her vantage point, she scanned the scene. The carnival was doing well; she was sure the Ravnos was turning a very healthy profit. Though she could not actually see Jeanette, she could still detect her unmistakable peppermint scent through all the other smells: Popcorn, caramel, apples, sawdust, oil, and many other things often associated with places like this. There was even a subtle hint of vomitus covered up with bleach and disinfectant. The Gangrel wondered momentarily if Ajax was around somewhere, and quickly dismissed the thought. She had heard through her own connections that Ajax was on some kind of shitlist with the Nosferatu, though she didn't know why; the best she could gather was it had something to do with Daniel Hastings, Prince of Vancouver. She growled quietly at herself top shake off all the thoughts of politics and stupid crap of the city life; she really had to get out, this stuff was creeping into her thoughts whether she wanted them to or not.

Fenris stood up from her perch and changed to bat form so she could sweep the carnival and get a visual of it. From there, she found Jeanette quickly; she was at one of those game booths where one tries to knock down the milk bottles with a baseball in order to win a cheap, poorly made stuffed toy. She was doing quite well at it, too, as far as Fenris could tell. The Carney managing the booth was doing his best to conceal his dismay, even as Janette was putting money down to upgrade her prize. Fenris honestly had no idea which prize the Malkavian was trying for, but if she were to hazard a guess it would be the gigantic clown that roughly the size of a kindergarten child. In her brief glance at it, it seemed to Fenris that it had arms that could be manipulated into poses. She also saw that the owner of this racket – she couldn't remember his name – was nearby watching Jeanette increase her winnings. She flapped and fluttered in the vicinity to monitor the situation, and saw the owner give the booth operator a subtle nod, and the operator continued to let Jeanette play to her hearts' content. Perhaps the son of a bitch knew just who Jeanette was and opted to let the Prince's twin sister clean up at his booth. That would be the wiser course to take; particularly since his little racket looked like it was making more than it was losing anyway. That wasn't a concern; what was a concern was the figure lurking in the shadows less than ten feet away from the owner. He had the stink of those Brightstone assholes on him. Then she noticed him put his hand to his ear and adjust something; probably one of those telephone earpieces or something like that and mutter something she couldn't quite make out. That part didn't matter; what did matter was what it meant. It meant one of two things: either he wasn't alone or he had a contact somewhere else in the city. Actually, it was possible both options were true. Still airborne, Fenris widened her perimeter to search for others like him. Within the actual grounds there were none that were obvious, but just beyond the grounds, in an outcropping of rocks there was a sniper, waiting to get a shot. His vantage point was actually much better than one Fenris initially had; from here he could easily tag either the Ravnos or Jeanette virtually anywhere in the park. The sniper had a scent Fenris knew all too well; but her brain kept telling her that wasn't possible.

This was the guy that X nearly took out. That couldn't be, though; Cameron reported that he died during the course of an interrogation. The Ventrue even produced two fingers from his left hand as proof. Of course, Cammie was a cagey bastard; he could have staged it all for some gain that only a Ventrue would understand.

Still airborne, Fenris circled above the sniper in a wide arc and began to descend upon him even as he made the final preparations to take his shot. Even before she landed she reverted to her humanoid form, landing directly on top of him. By reflex, he pulled the trigger on impact. Peripherally, she saw the shot went wild; but not by much. As the sniper struggled to turn over under her, she could hear a scream in the distance. At this point in the struggle, she could only hope she made the right play by going for the sniper first and that Jeanette could handle herself with the other one for the time being.

Claws popped and sitting on the snipers' chest, Fenris pushed his head back to expose his neck with one hand and reared back the other to slash his throat; she wanted to make quick work of him so she could back to the park, which sounded like pandemonium. The sniper, a lot tougher than a human should be, managed to roll through so that Fenris was on her back with him pinning her. He flicked the wrist of his good hand to reveal a small blade, which he deftly slashed across her throat; which was more a surprise than a damaging blow. Forced to improvise, Fenris boxed his ears. It was enough. The sniper howled and rolled off Fenris clutching his skull and staggering away. By the time Fenris got back to her own feet, the sniper had recovered enough to throw a stake at her, chest level, like a spear. The Gangrel was able to sidestep the stake and charge the sniper, taking care to keep her centre of gravity low on her approach. Once in close enough, she swept her claws up upwards, tearing through his leather jacket and into his flesh. Sensing the advantage, she took another swipe at his throat, which the sniper blocked with his forearm and attempted to counter with a straight punch across her jaw. She grabbed his wrist and twisted his arm, and then with her other arm smashed her forearm into his elbow; snapping it sharply.

The sniper wailed in shock and pain; his knees giving out. Fenris held on to his arm as she swept his legs out from under him and following that up with a kick to the head while simultaneously giving his now broken arm another twist for good measure. His mangled hand flailing uselessly, the sniper tried in vain to gain purchase on some body part of hers, but she kept everything just beyond his reach. She took note that she was probably enjoying this just a little bit too much; that she was letting the beast within have just a little too much fun. It also occurred to her that if her hunch was right about this guy, if he was somewhere on Cammies' payroll, her long road out of the city may very well have gotten a whole lot shorter tonight.

It was time to end this. With one quick motion she lunged in and bit into his flesh and began to draw the life from his veins. At first taste she immediately stopped. The sniper was stunned enough that he was virtually motionless. Fenris couldn't believe what her senses were telling her; this was no human at all. Nor was he a ghoul; and certainly had no hint of Damsel in his blood. Her senses were telling her that this... thing was...kindred?

She shook her head in disbelief. Presently she slashed across her quarries' throat to finish him off. Even as he dropped, Fenris turned her attention back to the park. There was no way the sniper could be kindred; he was seen in daylight. She remembered ten years ago there was a few of those thin bloods hiding out in Santa Monica, but even they had to dodge the sun, as far she knew. Whatever he was, he was finished now, so it didn't really matter anymore. What mattered was making sure The Prince's little sister was safe. Again, if this was what she thought it was, she may have an out; that was what mattered most of all.

When she got to the park, it was almost completely deserted. Only the staff, a gibbering hunter, and Jeanette remained; the staff members were all sullen as they looked over the staked and torpid form of their boss and master. She wasn't sure how much the mortal members of the Ravnos' entourage knew, but she could tell that not all of them were ghouls; some of them were clearly human. The Masquerade must be maintained. For now, it had to appear as if the owner of the park was either dead or mortally wounded. In the distance, sirens could be heard. Fenris pulled Jeanette aside and asked her what exactly happened down here. As she did, the younger twin acted as if she believed that the Gangrel was some sort of undercover cop or something like that. In manner of speaking, that wasn't far from true.

"The king of the flying circus got attacked with a pointed stick instead of fresh fruit." Jeanette answered with surprising lucidity- for her, anyway. "Then I must have broken the pointed stick's heart with my smile." She cocked her thumb casually behind her in the general direction of the Brightstone hunter. "And don't worry about the sirens, Muffin. They've all been handpicked for this task."

Fenris nodded, relieved. "That's good news." She said. "Can I ask you to come with me for a second? I need to show you something." Fenris marched as Jeanette skipped along behind her towards the place where the remains of the sniper were. "This one had a sniper rifle trained on you."

"You... you saved my life." Jeanette said with awe. "Thank you; I will be sure to let my sister know what a good job you're doing. I might not tell her how messy your work is, though." She sighed melodramatically. "I suppose I still owe you more than that, though; Kindred economics are so fickle. What more can I do for you; or to you, for that matter?"

Fenris barely concealed her grin. This was starting to work out just as she hoped. "First and this is really a small matter," she began. "Do either you or her highness know who this man is?"

Jeanette regarded the sniper. Finally she shook her head indicating the negative.

Now it was critical that Fenris hide her glee. "That's too bad." She said, doing her best to feign disappointment. "I was hoping to get a bead on his identity. I suspect he might have been a key player."

Jeanette cocked her head slightly, assessing the Gangrel. At last she giggled lightly. "Okay, muffin, you keep your secrets for now. You've earned that much. What's the next part of your request? So far this is much more interesting than I thought it would be."

"I hope this won't disappoint you, then." Fenris replied. "I was hoping maybe you could convince her highness that by saving your life I may have fulfilled my boon to her from a few months back when that Assamite nearly took me out."

She could almost see the wheels of Jeanette's twisted mind turn behind her violet eyes. It was the first time she noticed the Malkavian's eye color. "Oh, this is fun!" she remarked. "You are playing economy. Stand under this, Muffin; I can't promise that, but I can give you my word that I will put that notion forward the next time Therese and dance with each other."

"Thank you, Jeanette." Fenris replied. "That's all I ask."

Jeanette smiled and began to skip back towards the park. "Now I think we both have prizes to collect before the clean up begins." She said.

Once Fenris was sure Jeanette was out of sight, Fenris allowed herself a smile. Even though it was apparent that the Malkavian may well have guessed in her own way the Gangrel was playing at here, it didn't much matter. Still, she had little time to lose. The sirens were much closer now, and she wanted to be clear of the scene entirely by the time the cops and medics got there; some of them might be in Cammie's pocket as well as Therese's. Quickly she grabbed the sniper's sword and set out his mangled hand. Then with as much precision as she could muster, she severed the hand with the missing fingers off at the wrist and stuffed it into the front pocket of her hoodie. She examined the sword and decided to keep it, too. Then she turned herself into mist form and made an exit from the scene. Her next objective would be to pay the Seneschal a little visit...


End file.
